


Creeping Distress

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Incomplete, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt was, "During her bout with cancer, Scully occasionally calls Mulder in the middle of the night when she can’t stop thinking. He wordlessly picks her up in his car and they drive in the dark throughout the city until she’s able to fall asleep."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Midnight Drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mulder_itsme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulder_itsme/gifts), [SpyderScully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpyderScully/gifts).



> I decided to make this a multi-chaptered fic because I ended up stringing a couple of prompts together to make one tale.

The streetlight casts shadows in her room that make the ceiling look as though it were the window of a jail cell, and she can’t help but laugh bitterly at how fitting it is. There is only one thought in her mind, but it pales in comparison to the others that might have had her up with worry only months before:  _I’m dying._

It wasn’t a quick and sudden death that people hoped for, like the kind where you go to sleep every night and wake up the next morning until suddenly you just don’t wake up anymore; it was a slow, agonizing death, not physically, but emotionally, as you were forced to watch everyone around you prepare for the worst.

Mulder had been exceptionally kind in every way, making an effort to show that he cared, while leaving her with her sense of pride and autonomy intact. She would never allow him to see her in this current state: tired from lack of sleep, red eyed from crying and nauseous from the treatment.

Yet sleep won’t come. More preoccupying thoughts keep her mind turning gears, and after an hour of trying to get some sleep, she decides to call Mulder, to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts she has of dying and of disappointing her family.

Reluctantly, she picks up the phone. She hesitates in dialing Mulder’s number, her eyes drifting to the clock to determine if he would be asleep or not. It’s a little after midnight, and though she knows him to usually stay up late, she doesn’t want to chance disturbing him if he is engaged in something. Despite that, before she can do anything else, her fingers are already dialing his number out of habit.

“Hello?” His voice sounds alert, and she can hear a droll voice in the background, which she presumes is the television. She is glad he is not watching porn.

“Mulder, it’s me.” Scully says, sitting up proper, and holding the phone with both hands. She hears the TV’s volume lower in the background.

“Hey Scully, is everything okay?” Even at midnight, Mulder sounds happy to hear from her, and this puts a smile on her face.

“Yeah, everything’s fine… I just couldn’t sleep. I figured you would be up… are you up for having another little chat again tonight?” She can hear him moving pots & pans around in his kitchen, and she wonders if he ever makes himself food.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Briefly, her anxieties about her illness present themselves as topics in the forefront of her mind to discuss with him, but she instead goes with,

“A couple of years ago, when we first started working together, you asked me if I’d seen the Liberty Bell, since we were in Philly. Remember that?”

“Sure, I remember. We didn’t get to go because the pavilion only stays open until 5. I’ve still never gone.”

“Why did you want to go there?” She asks, and Mulder gives a short laugh.

“I wanted to see if the crack was caused by psychokinesis too. Don’t you know? They never did find out how the bell was cracked. No one can agree on how it happened, just that one day it was cracked beyond repair and so no one used it again after that. But imagine, a psychokinetic force or maybe even a genuine haunting. I would have loved to investigate it.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t go. There’s a lot of things I would have liked to do with you, though not investigating that.”

“Well, there’s still time. We can’t do the Liberty Bell, but there’s other things to do. It’s only midnight. I know a diner we could go to, if you want.”

“That’s—that’s not what I meant.” Scully says, though she is smiling because Mulder is a good friend.

“I know. I know what you meant. I meant what I said, too. There _is_  still time.”

“Maybe,” She says, and she hears Mulder sigh a little.

“I should probably go, it’s late. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She finishes, and she can almost imagine Mulder running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Alright. See ya.”

* * *

 

It’s getting closer to 1:30 and she still cannot sleep. She wants to call Mulder again, but she figures he has gone to bed, and she regrets hanging up on him so quickly. At every avenue that he has met her, offering her the chance to let him in, she has shut him out and cast him aside. She does not want him close, because she knows the words she dreads to hear will come and she fears that he will lose it when she passes, and so she will not allow herself to hear it. She cannot return the feelings—she refuses to.

Her thoughts are interrupted by her doorbell. Cautiously, she steps out of bed, gets into her robe and opens the door. Mulder is there.

“What are you doing here?” She asks worriedly, and before he can answer, he is ushered inside.

“Get dressed. I have an idea.” This is all he says, before he heads out of the apartment. She is confused, but hurries to make herself decent.

When she arrives downstairs, Mulder is already in the car. She joins him and he begins to drive. It’s dark, and quiet, and she wonders if he does this often. Twice, she opens her mouth to speak, but the silence that has enveloped the car is nice and comfortable, and so she does not break it, content to just take in the scenery.

They drive around, aimlessly. He says nothing to her, and she says nothing to him, but the time spent in his company means more without being littered with small talk. The only thing she can think to say is thank you, and even that is not enough for the gratitude she has for his endless patience with her. Mulder steals furtive glances at her, and wonders if she knows that even with the lines of exhaustion that mar her face, the paleness of her skin, and the fact that she never smiles like she used to, she’s still as beautiful as the day they met, and though he wants her to know very badly how much he loves her, he respects her too much to put their relationship in jeopardy by telling her such. Does she know, he wonders, that she’s the only one he wishes he could do everything with? These questions and thoughts are the only thing that keep him awake enough to drive, as Scully slowly begins to nod off.

Finally, when she’s fallen asleep, Mulder takes her back to her place. He carries her up to her apartment, and uses his keys to open the door, and sets her down on her couch. As he turns to leave, she says,

“Thank you.” It’s a soft, gentle expression of gratitude, and Mulder shrugs it off. He makes a motion to leave, but she calls him back, taking his hand:

“Please stay. It’s so late…” So he quietly agrees and takes residence on the floor, near the couch.

“You’re a good friend, Mulder. Thank you for keeping my mind distracted.” She whispers softly, and Mulder smiles because she has no idea how much that means to him.

“It’s no problem… And you know, there’s still time, to do the things you wanted. If I can help in anyway, please let me. It’s the very least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.” Mulder whispers back, but Scully does not answer, because she’s fallen asleep.


	2. The List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was: "MSR nonsense: While cleaning out the office by herself on a slow afternoon, Scully stumbles upon a “to do” checklist of sorts in one of Mulder’s drawers that he has obviously been adding to over the last several months. As she reads it, she realizes that he has been keeping track of some of the dreams and wishes she has occasionally confessed to him over the years."
> 
> What it says on the tin, folks.

“It’s a stupid court appearance,” He said to Scully as he shrugged on his coat, and put the half eaten bagel in his pocket. “Remember the Rodham murders? I have to testify as an expert witness. I don’t know why theyeven bother, no one believes me anyway, but I gotta do it. Duty calls.”

Mulder glanced around his person, and then at his partner. His partner was holding a Thermos and his briefcase. Sheepishly, he took both from her and gave her a breathless expression of gratitude, as he started off for the elevator, trying to shuffle the files under his arm and the briefcase and thermos. Scully followed him to the elevator.

“Uh, I’ll call you, I guess when I get out. Uh, I don’t really expect to be there all day, but Skinner gave me the day anyways, so when I get out, maybe we can meet up for late lunch,” Mulder said, as they waited for the elevator. Scully helped him get organized, and straightened his tie. Again, he thanked her.

“I just need you do that autopsy and I left something with Henderson over at the crime lab. If she asks about dinner, tell her 6 on Thursday.”

“But Mulder, didn’t you tell me you were going to your mother’s to fix her porch?”

“Exactly. If I stand her up, she’ll probably give up on me. I don’t know why she doesn’t figure like everyone else does, that we’re sleeping together.” Mulder said, as the elevator doors opened. He stepped on and gave Scully one of his disarming smiles, and used his foot to hold the doors open. The remark was meant to provoke a response but she gave none, and so he knew she was probably elsewhere, mentally.

“Oh and Scully… If you do decide to find yourself a boyfriend, make sure you vet him first before you guys get tattoos?” His tone was jocular, but that wound was obviously still raw for both of them, so the look she gave Mulder was not kind. At the very least, he got a reaction, which was what he had been going for.

“I’ll be fine, Mulder.” Scully murmured, turning to go back into the office once the doors to the elevator closed.

The office was, putting it lightly, a mess. It was in a state of disarray and although she had the desire to fix it, she decided not to, instead reading the case file on Mulder’s desk and then heading to the morgue to perform the autopsy.

She didn’t find anything out of place with the autopsy, which was odd, given the way the victim died of an apparent heart attack. There was no history of coronary disease or any heart trouble, so Scully made a note of this and headed up to the lab to talk to Henderson.

When Scully arrived at the lab, she found the older woman crouched over a microscope, examining handwriting samples. Scully’s footsteps caused the woman to look up.

“Ah, Agent Scully. Agent Mulder couldn’t make it?” Henderson asked, pushing away from the microscope and standing.

“He had a court appearance and sent me to collect whatever it was he left here.” Scully said, glancing at the desk where the microscope was situated. There was a picture of Henderson, Mulder, his old partner Jerry, Mulder’s friend Chuck and a couple of people Scully didn’t recognize.

“Oh, I see. It’s a shame, I wanted to make plans to go out to dinner with him. Do you know if he’s free this week?” Henderson asked, as she turned to get the evidence that Mulder handed her. She gave it to Scully.

“I wouldn’t know; I don’t make Agent Mulder’s appointments.” Scully said, though not kindly. Henderson frowned, but wished Scully a good morning as she left, carrying the evidence under her arm.

 

 

* * *

 

When Scully came back into the office, the sight of the desk caused her to feel the overwhelming urge to tidy up again. She started by shuffling about the files on the desk into neat piles, and her mind wandered back to the other night when Mulder showed up at her apartment to drive her around until she fell asleep. The gesture was appreciated, but they never spoke of it again. It was one of the rare moments Scully allowed herself to be vulnerable around her partner. And she was glad he had not taken advantage of that.

When she was done arranging things, she opened the draw to grab a paper clip when she saw it: a slip of paper with her name on it. Curiosity got the better of her and she sat down to start reading through it.

_List of things to do:_

  * _Reorganize files + new index_
  * _clean out room + find baseball mitt_
  * _fix mom’s porch_
  * _pay bills ***_
  * _call Chuck_
  * _clean fishtank ***_
  * _sailing w/ Scully *** (take Dramamine)_
  * _taxes due (ugh)_
  * _lunch at botanical gardens + don’t embarrass Scully ***_
  * _call lgm about reptoids_
  * _Check out this book (ISBN#_ _0721649076) ***_
  * _movies w/ Scully_
  * _email sen. Kennedy irt his family_
  * _email phoebe back_
  * _dinner w/ Scully and cook for her 4 v-day_



Scully was surprised; she didn’t expect to find such a personal list, but she was even more surprised to find that he had put down some of the things she had mentioned wanting to do in passing. The entry for sailing surprised her the most because she had never explicitly expressed the desire to go sailing, but he still managed to remember that detail that her sister had most likely told him. She was incredibly touched by it, despite the fact she pretended as though she hadn’t seen it—if he had meant for her to know, he would have told her, but he probably figured that she would object if she knew.

 _And she would have._ Mulder had already done so much for her and though she would never openly admit it, he provided the kind of emotional support she needed. She didn’t share anything with her family, but Mulder was there with her for every test and every appointment. He never went inside the doctor’s office with her, but he always waited patiently in the waiting room and dropped her off at home when she was done.

And he never complained. She knew that it was taking its toll on him. He had spent many nights wide awake, right next to the phone in case she called. The empty cups of coffee that littered the office told more of a story than he could ever come up with; the folded up blanket he kept in his car, all of them for her added to the tale, and the medical textbooks her hid from her and read when he thought she wasn’t around completed the story of sickness and of death, but also of friendship and perhaps something more. She didn’t want to entertain those thoughts.

The phone snapped her out of her reverie and she reached out to answer, considering the phone with an attention to detail that was not uncharacteristic of her. The phone rang with what she perceived to be slightly more insistence, before she answered,

“Hello?” Her tone was surprisingly intimate, and she prayed that it was not Skinner on the line.

It wasn’t.

“Scully, it’s me. I’m out of court, so if you’re finished in the office, I can swing by and get you. I thought maybe I would uh, treat you to dinner.” There was a hesitation in his voice, and she realized, he was most likely expecting a rejection. She let the silence persist until he called her name quietly.

“Scully? Are you still there?” Nervousness pervaded his tone. This made Scully smile; she wasn’t hungry but she appreciated his company.

She was never hungry.

“Yes, I’m still here. Sorry, I thought someone was at the door. Dinner sounds nice. Should I maybe go home and change?”

“No, you’re fine. I’ll be there in a few.” He said, and she bid him farewell before she hung up.

* * *

Despite the fact that she insisted anything was fine with her—even a diner, Mulder managed to find a place that was actually decent by Mulder’s standards. Scully was surprised; the place was pretty and the food seemed appetizing. They started eating in silence, though after a couple minutes, Mulder started,

“Managed to get anything done in the office?” The question was an innocent one, though her first thought was of the list, and her eyes glanced off to the side as she mentally recalled it.

“I got the autopsy done,” She said, her eyes glancing down at the food to avoid his gaze. Mulder nodded, and continued,

“Great, what did you find?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Scully said, bringing her eyes up to meet his. She broke the contact after a moment. “I didn’t find anything. I didn’t see any indication of how his heart could have just stopped like that. It’s very strange. I also got the evidence from Henderson.”

This time, Scully used a hand to sweep away the errant locks of hair that partially obscured her vision when she moved her head just so; she noticed Mulder watching with a look she couldn’t quite read, so she gave him a small, but shy smile.

“I’m guessing you didn’t read it?” Mulder scraped his pickles and some stray lettuce from his dish on to hers. He also gave her a mozzarella stick. She didn’t protest; she was used to eating Mulder’s scraps sometimes, and though she was already done with her food, she accepted his gratefully.

“No, I actually ended up cleaning up the desk a little. It’s really messy.” She admitted, with a weak chuckle. Mulder shifted his glance to the side to spy on a neighboring couple, to avoid having to directly face Scully. He had no doubts that she had seen the to-do list, but he wouldn’t mention it unless she did.

She didn’t.

“I found my paperclips.” Scully murmured as she pushed around the last pickle around her plate with a fork.

“Yeah, I’ve been holding on to them for you for a while. I didn’t get a chance to really use them yet, though.”

Scully got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the paperclips, though she didn’t want to directly engage him in the conversation’s actual topic.

He wasn’t.

“Well, you’ll get a chance once I’m done with my report.” Scully said, with a tone of finality that told of an unwillingness to continue the topic. So they spoke of it no more.

When dishes were taken from them, and they were ready to leave, Scully noticed that Mulder had seemed withdrawn, though he seemed self-conscious.

“Scully, I’m guessing since you saw my list, you know I’ve been planning to ask you this for a while…” Mulder started when they we’re out of the restaurant and in the cold, slightly windy February air. Scully glanced over at him and paid him full attention, but she could not figure out his look, nor would it give her any indication of what he intended to ask her. He seemed out of sorts, almost.

“What list?” She asked, feigning ignorance and providing them with a way out of the conversation before it could grow more serious.

He took the bait.

“If you didn’t see it, never mind.” He spoke, though his tone was indifferent, and she wondered if she had upset him. He began to walk ahead of her to the car, and she followed.

They climbed into his car, and while she looked for her seatbelt, Mulder fiddled with the radio, which he normally didn’t do. Scully could tell he was nervous; he was working himself up to say something important, and she kept dodging it. Eventually, it would be forced out and it would not be cute, then. It would be like a half expelled growth from the body, covered in blood. A quivering mass of incompleteness, neither human nor animal, but just there, as a horrible and rotten truth, to be forgotten in the cold winter air. How disgusting.

She had to deal with it now, before it could grow.

“Mulder, what were you going to ask me earlier?” Her voice was soft, and laced with worry, though not too much.

“I wanted to know if you were doing anything on Saturday.”

“You mean Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh, I didn’t know that was Saturday but yeah, I guess.” Mulder said this quickly and despite the fact he was a frequent rule-breaker, he was a bad liar, and she could see through his ruse. She played along.

“No, I’m not busy. I was going to stay in and treat myself to dinner. Why?”

“Well, uh, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come over instead. I’ll order in and we can watch a movie or something. We never really hang out and I wanted to at least get a chance to do things with you, as a friend before you… Well, I guess you know.” He wasn’t looking at her, but she could tell by his tone he was being sincere.

“Okay. I’ll come over on Saturday. How does 6 sound?”

“That’s, that’s great actually. Thank you, uh, I guess it’s a date then—I mean, you know not a date but—”

“I know what you mean. I just want to warn you now though,” Scully started, turning her body as much as the seatbelt would allow to face him, “You’re a great guy, Mulder. I’m not speaking as your partner, I’m speaking as your friend. Anyone would be lucky to have you as a friend, and even more lucky to be your lover. I know you don’t do things in the conventional way which is why it took me so long to realize this, but I can’t return your feelings.”

The silence that descended on the car was deafening and outside, they could hear the wind and the outdoor furniture creaking. It seemed to go on forever until Mulder broke the silence first.

“Can’t… Or you won’t?” He cast a glance in her direction. She was looking at him steadily, though her fingers were curled tightly on her thigh.

“I… I wish I had more time. I don’t think it’s fair to you that you’ll be with someone who is dying quickly. I don’t want you to go through that. Please, Mulder, it’s better for the both of us if we just stay as friends and coworkers.”

“We’re all dying… Just some more quickly than others. But if there is a chance that you and I could have something… What if you did find a cure? What then?”

“People have been researching it for ages, there is nothing we’re going to find that hasn’t been found already. We’re just not there yet.” Scully reached out to hold his hand and for a while, the two of them sat in the car this way. Neither of them spoke, though there was no need to, and finally, Scully let his hand go.

But he couldn’t drive.

“I thought I was going to lose you once before and I promised myself that if you came back… I would do whatever I could to show you that you mean a lot to me. And, you do. I wish I could do more for you.”

“You can start by driving, Mulder.” Scully said in a jocular tone, and Mulder looked over at her, and she could see the desperation on his features. She regret the joke, but it was too late, and the moment was over. Mulder began to drive.

“You’ve already done so much for me. You’ve been the only person I could talk to about this disease, you’ve been there for me, for all the appointments, and when I can’t sleep, you keep me company. You were there for me and you never gave up when everyone else did, and even now, at the end of it all, you’re still willing to give anything to make sure I’m okay. I get it Mulder. I knew what you were trying to say to me before you even knew it. And I feel the same way. I just don’t want to hurt you. I’m dying. This is inevitable; I will die, and then you will be alone, and I don’t want that for you.” She uttered this in a low, shaky voice that was full of emotion.

“Yeah, I understand.” That was all he said. He didn’t sound disappointed, if anything, his tone was laced in sympathy, and he knew that the conversation on that front had ended.

When Mulder got to Scully’s building, she hesitated on leaving. She seemed reluctant to, but she opened the door, and then, while her legs were just about to hit the cement, she glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Come upstairs with me.” Her voice was low and breathy.

He didn’t hesitate to follow.

When they were at the apartment, Mulder noticed it was excessively organized. He watched as she shed her coat, went to her room and came back out in more casual house clothing. She settled on the couch, and glanced up at him.

“Are you going to stay in your coat all day?” She asked, and Mulder shed his and went to join her on the couch. She faced him, and he faced her, and she took his hands.

“You work too hard,” She said, tracing her fingers over his old scars from cases gone by. “I wish you would treat yourself better. I wish you would sleep more, eat more, and live more.”

“I’m living now, aren’t I?”

“No. You’re surviving. You need to  _live_. You have to do things, to just enjoy life. I know your work is an escape but… there’s so much you  _could_  be doing.” Scully said, looking up at him.

This was a cue for something.

So he kissed her. It was a slow, deep kiss that Scully had not been expecting. It was exactly what she had imagined it would be like, and though she let herself go, a small part of her knew this wasn’t what she had planned for and that this was going to be something they would both regret.

* * *

She woke up entangled in his arms, on the couch. Their clothes had been discarded haphazardly, and Mulder had meant to go home when they were finished but that never happened and they slept through the alarm.

So she disengaged from him and picked her clothes off the floor, and hurried to the bathroom. She showered, washed her hair, and when she went to brush her teeth, she saw it. Her nose was bleeding. As she cleaned off the blood, her mind wandered back to her time spent with Mulder. It was enjoyable—much more than she thought it would have been, but she was worried that she had given him the wrong idea. She’d told him she didn’t want to start a romantic relationship with him, and then they had sex. She wouldn’t blame him if he ended up getting upset over it. It was the kind of thing she had been hoping to avoid.

When she came out of the bathroom, Mulder was gone, which worried her, and only solidified her fears that he would be upset over the mixed signals. She sighed, and got dressed properly, to go to work.

When she got to the office, Mulder wasn’t there either. She felt very self conscious, and wondered if he regretted last night as much as she did. That thought worried her and she tried her best to keep herself occupied by reading the evidence report of the case they were working on and making her own observations.

When he came it, it was around 2.

She glanced up from where she was reading and for a moment, they both didn’t know what to say. So, Mulder broke the ice.

“Sorry I got here late. I went by to see the Lone Gunmen about something and then I had to see Skinner. Did you get any work done?” His tone was indifferent, professional, and she was relieved, because she hadn’t wanted anything to change between them. She expected a long conversation about what had transpired the night before, but she suspected it would come later.

“I was just going over some of the evidence Henderson looked at. She confirmed that the handwriting used in the note matches handwriting used in the envelope that was mailed here.”

“That means it was the same person.” Mulder said, moving to sift through his filing cabinet. She watched him, and compared him to the way she saw him now, to the way she had seen him before last night. She had never even considered sleeping with him, but now that it had happened, it was something she felt that she could not permit herself to do so again, if only because it was not fair to the both of them.

“Here. Something like this happened before, but in a different city—Austin, Texas. I don’t have the notes but the guys down there probably do. How do you feel about going there?” He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she glanced down at the files in her lap. He seemed to be over last night, and gave no indication of any hard feelings.

“I can do that. I have an appointment for today but if you want to leave when I’m done, I can go and pack now.” Scully said, and Mulder nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good. If you want, I could take you there.” He suggested, but Scully shook her head.

“I’ll meet you back at my place, when it’s over. I’ll call.”

“OK. But you know… what happened last night…”

She knew it was going to sneak up on her. She glanced up at him and he had her full attention, though she was frowning, slightly.

“It was a mistake, Mulder. I’m sorry, I got caught up in the moment. It wasn’t fair to either of us and it can’t happen again…” She said, though her tone was wobbly.

“I understand. It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I uh, just wanted to be sure of where we stood. I wanted to just make sure that it doesn’t affect how we work together.” He said, folding his arms over his chest pensively. Scully pushed out a sigh of relief.

“No, I… I really enjoyed last night,” She said, avoiding his eyes as a grin slowly crept up on his features, “But it would be better for us if it didn’t happen anymore. I like you a lot Mulder, I mean that, but I like whatever we have now, more.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Mulder gave her a small smile, that seemed sad in nature, but he headed for his desk, and looked down at the work she had done, tidying up the desk.

“I’ll see you later, then?” Scully asked, her tone approaching something halfway between tender and worried.

“Sure, I’m going to book our flight now. See you in a bit.”


End file.
